


Sound Masking

by haipollai



Category: The Avengers (2012), The Losers - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot, Pre-Canon, Rough Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-07
Updated: 2012-06-07
Packaged: 2017-11-07 05:32:48
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,088
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/427412
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/haipollai/pseuds/haipollai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>Cougar pushes him against a wall without preamble. The mission is technically done, the target is lying in a pool of his own blood 600 yards away and they have six hours before they have to report back or someone comes looking.</i>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>  <i>Clint fists his hands in Cougar's shirt and pulls him closer. Plenty of time.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Sound Masking

**Author's Note:**

> Sound Masking is a technique to mask the sound of the rifle. When employed by a highly skilled marksman, this tactic can be used as a substitute for a noise suppressor. Very loud sounds in the environment, such as artillery shells air bursting or claps of thunder, can often mask the sound of the shot. This technique is frequently used in clandestine operations, infiltration tactics, and guerrilla warfare. (from wiki)

Cougar pushes him against a wall without preamble. The mission is technically done, the target is lying in a pool of his own blood 600 yards away and they have six hours before they have to report back or someone comes looking.

Clint fists his hands in Cougar's shirt and pulls him closer. Plenty of time.

They kiss and it's all tongue and teeth. Clint can taste the sharp tang of metal as someone's lip splits and he moans. Cougar growls back, low in his throat. He's grinding against Clint, all long, hard lines. Even through their thick, uniform pants, he can feel how hard Cougar is. He cups him in one hand and grins as Cougar groans and rolls his hips forward. The man's been all control since they met three weeks ago and the fracture of his control, even that little bit, is a rush.

“Fuck me,” Clint purrs, licking a line from the edge of his shirt to his jaw. He can feel Cougar's pulse jump, echoing the pounding in his own ears. 

Cougar steps closer and there's no room anymore between them, his breath is hot on Clint's lips. It's Cougar's lips that are split, there's still a drop of blood, bright against pink flesh. For a second they stop, and stare at each other, waiting to see who will back down first. Cougar's eyes are dark and Clint wants to cave, drops his eyes, parts his lips when Cougar kisses him again. His hand is still between them though and he squeezes, smirking when Cougar pulls away with a sharp look. But the flush to his cheeks and the blown pupils take away from the effect.

“Come on, don't have forever.” He opens the fastenings deftly and reaches into his pants. Cougar doesn't close his eyes even as Clint teases sensitive flesh with fingertips callused from the bow. “Your move.”

Cougar smirks, it's a good look for him. Every time Clint's seen it during the mission his cock has twitched. It has the same effect on him now. Without warning, Clint's pushed back against the wall and his pants are around his knees, the sudden cool air on heated flesh making him shiver. Cougar's taking a long good look so Clint spreads his legs, lets him look. Cougar sucks on two of his fingers while Clint watches, eyes wide. 

His hands are rough and callused but different from Clint's. His are from physical labor and they've never spoken about what brought them here but Clint suspects it's illegal crossings and any work he could find. He doesn't bother with gentle, a rough slide in and out, stretching Clint open. Tomorrow he'll ache but he won't regret it. 

“I don't have...” Cougar says.

“I do.” He fishes around in his pockets. It's hard to focus with Cougar's fingers twisting like that inside of him but he manages to find the small packet. Cougar grins and curls his fingers. Clint has to bite down on his lower lip at the sudden spike of _ohfuck_. Some part of him is still absently aware of where they are. Overall he ignores it since it's also trying to tell him that sex here is a bad idea. Cougar licks a line from the neckline of his shirt up to his jaw. His fingers keep moving, twisting in and out, seeking out his prostate over and over until Clint sobs in desperation. He grabs the man's ponytail and pulls. A long, low hiss escapes him before Clint crushes their lips together.

The fingers pull out and Clint makes his own fingers work, ripping open the packet and getting the condom on Cougar. His hands are on Clint's backside, encouraging one leg up and around him.

There's a moment, Clint feels the tip pressing against his entrance, he takes a breath and then Cougar's thrusting in. Clint let's out a string of curse words. It burns and he focuses on breathing, on the rough wall against his back, the fabric where his hand grips tight enough he can feel his pulse throb in his fingers.

Cougar wraps a hand around his cock and strokes, drawing him back to full hardness. The residual ache makes it better, more intense. He moans at the heady rush, hips jerking forward slightly, caught between Cougar's cock and his hand.

“Ready?”

He tightens his leg around Cougar, drawing him in a little deeper. Another breath, his pulse is still racing. They're in the middle of Romania, someone could actually be smart enough to pinpoint their location, and he's fairly sure he's never been this hard in his life. “Yea, just fucking move.” He rolls his hips again to emphasize his point. Luckily, Cougar picks up on it and starts to thrust, careful at first but they're both on edge and Clint can handle pain, wants it. 

Without a word, Cougar understands and doesn't take long before he's thrusting in hard. At the last minute, Clint remembers to be quiet and bites down hard on his hand. Moans still escape past his lips when Cougar's cock hits him just right. 

He loses himself in the steady rhythm, the in and out like the breath before taking the shot. His hand curls around his erection in place of Cougar's currently digging painfully hard into his hips, all his tension being released into Clint. He doesn't mind, he's doing the same to Cougar. He feels his orgasm build up and he gives in and comes hard, burning from the inside out. Cougar makes a desperate pleading noise, the loudest he's been. He lasts a little longer and then he's biting down on Clint's shoulder and shaking with his orgasm. 

Clint leans heavily against the wall as Cougar pulls out, watching through heavy-lidded eyes as he deals with the condom. He tosses a rag at him that Clint knows better then to ask about, and he cleans himself off with it as best he can before tossing it back.

Cougar crouches beside him. His lips are red and swollen and Clint leans over to lick at the already scabbed over split, tasting sweat and metal. Cougar's lips part for him, sucking on his tongue.

“Ok?” 

“Fucking amazing.”

600 yards away is poor guy who got on the wrong side of the SHIELD and America is lying in a pool of his own blood and all the reasons he shouldn't, Clint feels clean. Cougar helps Clint up to his feet and they start the trek back to the extraction point.


End file.
